USQAF Finding Light
by Tuttle
Summary: In times of tragedy, we all need a shoulder to cry on, even if we don’t want to admit it. PARTS 1-3 POSTED Please R
1. Chapter One

Was it really supposed to be like this? He had no idea. Losing somebody close to him was something Brian Kinney had never gone through. That could have been because there were only a handful of people who Brian felt close to and his own family didn't make up an iota of them. Hell, his own family didn't even qualify. But Michael... Michael was the closest, and watching him in so much pain just couldn't be right.  
  
It was raining. Well of course it was, what good would it be to stand outside for hours on end if it wasn't pouring. And Brian in a new Armani. Which of the fates had he pissed off this time? It didn't matter. Even if he did figure it out, he'd still be standing out in the rain, getting soaked to the bone.  
  
Amidst the screen of raindrops was a sea of black. Black tuxes, black dresses, black umbrellas. The complete absence of all color. It seemed almost poetic. Dismal weather and dismal dress for a dismal occasion. But there was one color that caught Brian's eye. Gold.  
  
Michael stood beside him, hands in front of himself, twisting heartwrenchingly at the gold band that adorned his left ring finger. He twisted it back and forth, almost as if he was reminding himself that it was still there, wearing his finger practically raw as he did so.  
  
Brian reached over placing his hand gently over Michael's as the smaller man tilted his head back slightly, looking up at him. Michael's eyes were large, pain evident, but dry. His eyes were completely dry, which surprised Brian.  
  
Debbie of course was crying a river. And Hunter... the boy tried to remain the unmoving rock, but couldn't keep the wall standing, as his own tears spilled over.  
  
Brian just stood there, hands now folded in front of himself and his eyes scanned the crowd. It must have been half of Pittsburgh, or at least the entire enrollment of Carnegie Mellon. Fresh young ones, Brian thought as he eyed up his target.  
  
It was then, suddenly, that a sting came on Brian's left arm. "Will you have a little respect for Christ's sake, Brian," Lindsay whispered, having smacked him. "Save your cruising for another time. We're here for Michael." Brian didn't humor her with a response, but instead went back to what he had been doing for what seemed like forever already. Nothing.  
  
The words being said didn't mean much of anything to him, since organized religion had no place in Brian's life. He picked up the occasional 'Amen' for Michael's sake, but nothing else. He hated this, all of it. But most of all, he hated the look on Michael's face. The look that screamed out in pain and anguish, but allowed no actual emotion to break through. It was like Michael was frozen and that scared Brian.  
  
As the time crawled by, Brian was able to sneak a few quick glances at his watch, which went unnoticed by Lindsay, which was good, because if she had slapped him one more time, he would make sure that this funeral wasn't the only one they attended today.  
  
The people began to move apart, seeming to disperse from the crowd and Brian sighed in relief. He was beginning to get a little creeped out. He began to turn, reaching to put his arm around Michael, but finding that his friend no longer stood at his side. Brian looked back to where Michael had stepped forward.  
  
Michael was silent, standing before the dark wooden casket, his hand rested unmoved atop it. The rain drenched him as he had stepped out from beneath his umbrella, staring blankly at the headstone, BEN BRUCKNER, HUSBAND, FATHER, FRIEND, HIS FIGHT WAS A VALIANT ONE. Still the only moisture on Michael's face was from the rain.  
  
"Mikey?" Brian said, placing his hand on Michael's shoulder. "We gotta go. Come on," Michael went unmoved. "Mikey. It's fucking pouring out here, come on. Michael..." Brian had to practically tear him away from the casket, walking with him backwards, arm around his friend's shoulder, pulling Michael under the umbrella.  
  
They walked back to the limo, but there was no talking. Not a sound from either of them. Brian had lost sight of something that had always been, something that just added to the darkness of the day, It was at that very moment that Brian had noticed that light in Michael's eyes had gone out.


	2. Chapter Two

It seemed to Brian that the tide had shifted as the sea of mourners migrated to the Novotny house. He tried to keep an eye on Michael in attempt to keep him from being swallowed up by the current in his fragile and seemingly broken state. Brian kept his distance however, knowing that being even more overwhelmed might send Michael over the edge.  
  
Brian observed the crowd, all standing around, eating their little tea sandwiches, sipping their coffee, going on and on about what a wonderful man Ben had been. Debbie was keeping Hunter close to her, allowing the boy to grieve, knowing he was afraid to do so, to show his vulnerability.  
  
Michael blankly stared around the room, before abruptly turning and walking into the kitchen. He made his way to the coffee pot, pulling down two cups and beginning to pour.  
  
_"Don't you have time for at least one cup?" Michael pouted playfully.  
  
"That's what happens when we rely on the alarm clock in the morning." Ben said, tucking his shirt in. "It doesn't go off and then we all end up late for work."  
  
"It would have gone off this morning of we hadn't knocked it off the dresser last night when we were..."  
  
Ben pulled Michael closer, pressing their lips together. "We can continue this discussion later." Ben whispered against his lips.  
  
"I might have to refresh your memory," Michael smiled.  
  
"As if I'd forget how wonderful you are Michael......." _  
  
".... Michael," Brian's voice was now the one that echoed in his mind. "Christ, Mikey," Brian grabbed the coffee pot. "You're gonna burn your fucking hand." The cup was practically overflowing. "We have coffee out there... everyone's serving themselves... the food whores that they are."  
  
"Right...I don't know why I..." Michael put the second cup away. He knew exactly why he had taken it out, sighing, refusing to believe that there would no longer be any need for it.  
  
"Maybe we should get out of here for a while." Brian said. "There are too many people out there anyway and..."  
  
"You don't have to stay," Michael responded very monotone. "You have other places to be... Don't let me stop you."  
  
"That's not what I meant, Mikey." Brian said.  
  
"I need to get back out there," he said softly starting back out of the kitchen.  
  
"Mikey!" Brian called.  
  
Michael went out and gathered his coat and umbrella. "I need to go home," he said to Debbie.  
  
"Honey..." she said. "You and Hunter can stay here tonight. You can stay in your old room..."  
  
"No I... I need to go home," he said. "Hunter..."  
  
The boy looked at Debbie. She pulled him close against her, squeezing tightly before he pulled away. She cupped his cheek. "You need to call me... you call." Debbie said. "I don't give a fuck what time it is, OK?" Hunter nodded. "OK, honey."  
  
Brian was just walking out of the kitchen when he saw Michael and Hunter leaving the house. "He's leaving?" Brian said, standing behind Debbie.  
  
"Leave him alone, Brian." Debbie said. "Just leave him alone, let him grieve."  
  
"Yeah, right" Brian said. "I'm just gonna sit back and watch as Mikey self destructs."  
  
"You're just going to make it worse for him" Debbie turned to face him. Brian was already putting on his jacket. "Brian." Brian ignored her, heading towards the door. "Brian Kinney!"  
  
"You're not my fucking mother, Deb!" Brian spit.  
  
"No, you're right," Debbie said. "I'm his fucking mother and I don't want you getting on his ass."  
  
Brian laughed. "And all this time I thought that's what he wanted." Brian smirked, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I'm not going to bother your son. I've got places to go."  
  
"To get your dick sucked." Debbie said.  
  
"My own very special way of grieving" Brian said sarcastically, not noticing Michael stepping back into the house. "We're all sitting around here weeping... He's dead for Christ's sake. It's not like Ben's gonna come back to life if you cry long enough." Brian noticed Deb's gaze shoot behind him. He turned, coming face to face with Michael. Suddenly, Brian Kinney was speechless. "Mikey..." Michael shook his head, backing towards the door. "Michael..." Michael left the house as silently as he had reentered, a hurt look on his face. Brian went unmoved.  
  
"You're a real asshole, Brian, you know that?" Debbie said turning away, leaving him standing there, consumed by the sea of darkness and despair... alone.


	3. Chapter Three

Hunter threw his suit jacket down on the couch before flopping down on it himself. Michael walked directly into the bedroom. He loosened his tie, letting it dangle around his neck.  
  
_"You look beat," Ben said as Michael sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking his shoes off. "Long day?" Ben came up behind him, rubbing the kinks from Michael's shoulders.  
  
"Just slow," Michael said, letting his shoulders relax underneath Ben's hands. "What about you? What'd you teach like a thousand classes today?"  
  
"Five classes and a lecture," Ben laughed. "It wasn't that bad."  
  
"I thought you said you were teaching fewer classes this semester," Michael said.  
  
"And I thought you said you were going to be working fewer hours." Ben added with a smile. "With both of us working all hours, it doesn't leave much time for going out..."_  
  
The words echoed again as Michael was snapped from his trance. "Hey" Hunter said again. "I'm going out."  
  
"Where?" Michael said simply.  
  
Hunter shrugged. "Out." Michael wanted more than anything to keep him at home. Never let Hunter leave his sight for fear of losing him too, but he couldn't. He couldn't have the boy pacing the apartment like a caged animal, ready to pounce at the drop of a hat. "I'll be back."  
  
Michael made no attempt to stop him, know that he probably should have, watching at Hunter grabbed only his hat and stepped out of the apartment. He shouldn't be alone, Michael thought. This is hitting him and hitting him hard and all the boy could possibly be thinking is that he's next. But Michael couldn't move. He couldn't even muster up enough energy to pick up the phone and call somebody... anybody.  
  
He only laid back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying his hardest to rid his mind of the memories that were tearing his heart to pieces. The only sound he could hear was the rain pelting off the windows and the occasional whisp of wind which rattled the tree branches outside. The background was soon added to however by the sound of the front door opening. The jingle of the keys, it was so familiar. It wasn't Hunter. The only key Hunter kept on his ring was the one to the apartment. This was the sound of metal on metal, multiple keys.  
  
It was at that very moment that Michael stood from the bed, just knowing that these past days had been nothing but a nightmare. He hurried to the bedroom door, quickly looking out. "Ben?" he said with a bright hope in his voice.  
  
But his tone quickly dropped off at the sight of Brian Kinney standing drenched in his living room. " No," he said. "It's me, Mikey. It's me."  
  
"What... what are you doing here Brian?" Michael said heading off in the direction of the kitchen. Brian held back a moment before following him.  
  
"Because we need to talk." Brian said.  
  
Michael laughed. "You didn't say enough already at my Mom's? You thought you'd come rub it in my face some more?"  
  
"I wasn't rubbing anything" Brian remained calm. "Mikey, you're upset."  
  
"Damn right I'm upset," he said "I have every right to be."  
  
"You do" Brian said. "You really do. Michael I know how you feel..."  
  
Michael suddenly spun around, his face torn with anger, depression and sorrow. "You know how I feel?" he said. "How could you possibly know... how I feel? You didn't have to sit there when Ben would have these headaches that made him feel like his head was about to explode. You didn't have to worry about bumping him or touching him too hard, because if you did he would bruise, or watch him just start to bleed... for no reason. You didn't sit up at night listening to him breath because you were afraid that every one would be his last." Michael quickly wiped his eyes to keep tears from spilling over. "And you don't have to live knowing that you're going to have to watch it all happen again to your son. Don't you dare, Brian. Don't you dare tell me that you know how I feel. Because you don't. You don't know anything."  
  
Brian for once was speechless. Michael's eyes were dark as Brian studied his face. It was as if Brian was looking into a totally different person. It was a side of Michael that Brian had never seen. A side that he didn't particularly like.  
  
"Just get out of here Brian."  
  
Brian went unmoved. "Mikey..." he said.  
  
"Just.... just get the hell out of here, OK," Michael said. "I have to wait for Hunter, just go." Brian still didn't budge, gazing at Michael. "Go!"  
  
The anger was just a stage of coping with this, Brian thought. Michael had to be angry at someone and for the time being, Brian would rather Michael taking it out on him than direct it towards somebody else, namely Debbie or Hunter. So he slowly backed away towards the door, letting himself out without saying a word.


End file.
